The Red Will Light Our Way
by BetTheDuckisInTheHat
Summary: This wasn't the first time Captain Lopez was stranded in an island, and probably wouldn't be the last. But what if something different happened to her this time? Or rather someone, that would change her life forever.
1. Chapter 1

**October 20th, 1678**

Her body felt overheated as she could feel the sun burning the back of her head. The girl could feel the dirt and water covering her body as the salty smell of a beach invaded her senses.

Santana grunted as she tried opening her eyes, failing miserably at the task since the sun was too strong and her face was covered in sand. Patting her waist, she thanked the lord her beloved flask was still with her. She moved to lie on her back and uncapped the flask to take a sip, her eyes still squeezed shut. The brunette tasted the fresh water and immediately spitted the contents out with a groan.

"What the hell happened to my rum?" The brunette muttered angrily, as she tried once again opening her eyes, but the sand only made it hurt. Santana huffed in frustration and cleaned her face with the water. The woman was pretty sure, she had filled the flask with rum from her secret stash very recently. As she thought about it, the only possible explanation was that her first mate, Mercy, had sabotaged her and changed the contents of the flask.

Santana grated her teeth as she already started forming a plan to get back at her friend. What if the brunette just liked to appreciate fine drinking every once in a while (or every chance she could get)? She was still a fine captain, regardless. Mercy should learn her place and stop messing with her stash.

Putting her nosy shipmate aside, Santana took a look at her surroundings. First thing she saw was the crystal blue water of the vast open sea in front of her, along with large pieces of wood all over the deserted beach, she seemed to be in. She figured by the sting in her hands that the cuts and splinters she was seeing on it, probably was a result of her holding on to those wood boards on her way to get here. Using her hand for shade over her eyes, she focused her gaze ahead, but all she could see was the clear horizon and definitely no sigh of her ship. She frowned right away.

"Shit" she said as she got up to take a better look around. And again, there was still no sign of La Canoras, her ship. She turned around and saw a large forest behind her and a higher pile of rocks at the edge of the beach that looked steady enough. Patting her dirty clothes, she forced her growing headache to the back of her mind as she checked her body for any injuries. Luckily for her, there was nothing major, other than just some scratches; her hands looked the worst. The brunette dipped them in the cold salt water, grimacing at the sharp sting at the contact with it, then she teared a piece of her once white undershirt and wrapped around them. Santana released a relief sigh at not having anything worse than that as she started making her way to the rocks.

When she got there, she slowly climbed the tangled pile of rocks with her tired and overheated body. Once on top of it, she took another look around and noticed there was no sign of her ship, to her utter surprise and disappointment, not only that but there was no other ships around at all, not even fisherman's boats or merchants.

She sat on top of the largest rock dejectedly, taking her wet heavy boots off to dry beside her while she tried to gather her thoughts; as the brunette strained to remember what happened the night before. She remembered that was a big storm; a very violent one actually. And Santana hated storms.

Wrecking her brain for more memories, she remembered drinking alone in her cabin; as she usually did during heavy storms. She also recalled how bored she was inside the cabin, and eventually decided to go outside.

_**Flashback**_** - ****October 19th, 1678**

_"Mary! Mary!" Santana yelled to the winds as she stumbled her way into the main deck firmly holding a rum bottle in her hand. With the rain pouring down on her head, her blurred vision barely registered all the commotion around her, as sailors ran around the deck at someone else's commands._

_"Mary! Mary! Mary!" she kept calling out, locating the stairs for the quarterdeck and heading that way. When Santana got to the bottom of the stairs she heard a loud familiar voice screaming her name._

_"Santana!"_

_The brunette looked up from the stairs to see a large woman with an utterly soaked long coat glaring at her._

_"Good heavens, would ye stop callin' me that?!" the woman said putting her hands on her hips as Santana climbed the rest of the short stairs practically ignoring the other woman. "Ye know I hate that!" she said lowly so not everyone would hear her._

_Santana did know her friend hated being called Mary, and that was precisely the reason she did it. Mary Mercy Jones was her first mate and also La Canoras' Boatswain who happened to be Santana's best friend. They were raised together on the Lopez ship. Mer was just the cooker's kid back then, but they became friends right away, since there weren't any other kids aboard at that time. The girl had always disliked being called Mary and nowadays Santana was probably the only one on the crew that knew her full name._

_"Oh Mary, have Mercy!" Santana laughed at her own lame pun, as the woman just rolled her eyes and got back to her position guiding the wheel._

_"Get back in yer cabin, Satan!" she said after a moment when she noticed Santana was just standing there with glassy eyes._

_"Nah!" The drunken woman whined stubbornly crossing her arms and taking a few wobbly steps towards Mercy._

_"I'm the Captain!" she puffed her chest out and held her chin up. Mercy didn't waver, as she positioned an arm at her own waist and quirked an eyebrow at her inebriated friend._

_Santana released a loud frustrated sigh, and after a second admitted with a pout "And I was bored."_

_Mercy's eyes softened at her friend and patiently tried to explain "Santana, I have to handle the ship while ye be like 'tis." She said motioning to Santana's body and the bottle in her hand, Santana opened her mouth to protest but was cut off by Mer "Please get back in the cabin" she pleaded to her stubborn friend._

_"Alright, I'll go" Santana deflated finally giving in to Mercy's pleas._

_"But only for you, Mary" Santana teased with a smirk and winked at her friend, Mercy hit the girl's arm before waving her off and getting back to the wheel and shouting out commands to the other sailors as Santana walked away._

Santana remembered walking down the stairs to get back to the main deck, but that was it. After that, everything was even more blurry, and she couldn't recall what had happened afterwards.

She released an exasperated sigh at her inability to gather all her thoughts from the previous night. Maybe she overdid it with the alcohol after all. Santana got up and wiped the sand off her rear before putting her now almost dry boots on again and making her way down the rocks.

The brunette thought that since she seemed to be alone in this island for god knows how long she might as well just explore and gather some food and supplies. The first thing one should do when in a situation like this is gather food and water. But if she was lucky enough she could even find some alcohol, it sure wasn't the first time the brunette was stranded in a strange place or a deserted island.

In one particular occasion Santana was really fortunate to find a rum stash hidden by some smugglers in an island. And she pretty much got drunk until her crew had found her a couple days later. Santana was hoping that would be the case once again.

As she got back on ground level she headed for the forest located right alongside the beach. Santana groaned in disappointment to find out her Cutlass probably got lost at sea so she brandished her dagger and checked her trusted Flintlock Pistol safely strapped to her waist; seeing her powder was still wet and wouldn't help her but any possible enemy didn't have to know that. Nonetheless Santana was glad she at least had these weapons on her. Then the brunette released a deep sigh, preparing herself for what she might face, before she finally went into the forest.

As she entered the forest, Santana tried to listen for the sound of running water. After a few minutes of walking she finally caught a familiar sound of water and started following it. As she got further inside the tropical forest the path was becoming more difficult to walk on, even if Santana cut the branches that got in her way. The girl kept going since the sound of water seemed to be getting near with each step she took.

When Santana cut a few more branches that were blocking her view, she saw a clearing ahead of her. As she entered the large clearing she spotted a wooden cabin, build just about a hundred meters away from a running river.

She held in her sigh of relief for now, and for safety, the brunette drew her pistol with her left arm and readied herself even if it didn't seemed to be anyone around, she had learned it was better to be prepared, just in case.

Santana approached the beat down cabin and hesitantly knocked on the door, once, then twice. When she got no response, she kicked the door open and brandished her pistol. She finally sighed in relief as she noticed the cabin seemed to be abandoned after all; as it looked like no one had lived there for a long time by the state the place was in.

It was a very small cabin, and there wasn't even any usable furniture around. There was a small table that was missing two of its legs, but no sign of any chairs. In the corner she could see the marks on the floor from where she guessed the bed was probably placed in the past. There was crude hearth against one of the walls, with a hole for the smoke to be guided out through it by a canopy, and Santana thanked the lord it looked usable and dry enough, upon further inspection. The brunette also looked up to check for any cracks at the ceiling and thankfully she didn't see any.

Looking around, she noticed the cabin certainly was small and full of dust but it was still shelter, so she was not complaining. And definitely wasn't the worst place Santana had been in.

Exploring the place a little further, she noticed there was one more thing hidden in the back wall. There was an old chest covered in cobwebs and dust.

A large grin formed on Santana's face, she really liked chests, all kinds of them. She always got excited at the sight of one. She was a pirate after all, and the unknown had always marveled her.

As she got closer, the woman was very excited for the possibilities in front of her. When she tried opening it, she couldn't. The chest was locked. And Santana's grin only became bigger at the realization.

Santana liked chests, but she just loved locked chests. It could only mean there was something worth keeping inside of it. The woman patted her trousers once again, this time looking for her hair pin.

Only a few people knew this, but there was a reason Santana was such a notorious thief. And it was the fact that she was a master at lock picking. She was even better at picking locks than she was with a sword or even sailing. And she always proudly bragged to her best friend, that there was no lock she couldn't pick.

A huge smile covered her face as she felt the pin tucked safely inside one of her pockets. The woman crouched down to attentively analyze the lock. She always said that the secret to lock picking was on the knowledge of the lock. And she did a mental celebratory dance as she noticed the lock had a familiar mechanism, even if it was a tricky one. She carefully brought the pin to the lock and started her magic.

After a few minutes struggling with the lock, she finally heard the heavenly click, signaling the much awaited unlocking of the chest. And with her fingers trembling with excitement, she straightened her back and very carefully opened the chest.

Her feelings were mixed with what she found in the chest. One side of her was really disappointed that it didn't bare any valuable treasure, or more importantly alcohol. But another part of her was really grateful to find several blankets and even a few garments inside of it, which would definitely help her on her brief stay.

She groaned as she stood up again after searching the chest for anything useful beside clothes. The brunette took another look around the small cabin and groaned again, realizing she would have to actually do some work if she wanted to survive while she was there.

It took Santana a few hours and some trips from the beach to the cabin to gather and arrange her things for the night. And now the sun was almost setting, but she looked proudly at the fire she had just started on the hearth inside the cabin. The woman managed to gather many banana and coconut leafs to build a makeshift bed on the corner and covered it with one of the blankets for some comfort. She had checked the pouch attached to her leather belt earlier and only found a couple more pins, a few coins and Mike's weird ass healing cream; that smelled horrible but was very effective, she was grateful for not being injured so she wouldn't have to endure that atrocious smell.

She also gathered some fruits around the island for her supper and she even tried catching a fish but with no rod or fishing net there was just no way she would catch anything so she gave up only a few minutes after she started, deciding to spent her time at the beach drawing and building large signs on the sand so her crew could find her faster.

There were pros and cons of being a pirate, but definitely a lot of cons. Santana had been in this situation before, and she knew these waters were probably dangerous territory. And she didn't get to be a renowned female Captain of a pirate ship without making enemies along the way. The brunette was lucky to have found an apparent safe shelter with good enough distance from the beach. She couldn't just build a huge fire on the beach, stay sitting there and wait for her crew, if she did that, anyone would be able to see it and would easily find her, and chances are they would not be friendly towards her.

So ever since the first time it happened, Santana and her first mate created specific signs and words they would do and write to let the other one know where they were stranded if it ever happened again, and also made a promise to each other that they wouldn't give up on finding the other, even if Santana claimed that lame conversation never happened afterwards. But she knew as well as Mer, that both would keep their word. So that's what she did with her remaining time at the beach.

As Santana hovered over all the food she had gathered from the island and her low efficient fire, she really wished she had a strong drink to go along with it. Santana had just changed her clothes and left them to dry as she sat by the fire sipping on coconut water and eating bananas, taking a moment to think about her friends and her beloved ship. Santana felt comfort knowing Mer wouldn't give up on her so soon. She knew not everyone loved or even liked her in her crew but at least they all respected her for everything she's done for them so far. She might have made some mistakes in the past but everyone knew she was a damn fine captain at the end of the day.

Later after her supper, she stepped outside to gather some wood by the side of the cabin to secure the cabin's door shut, to avoid any intruders during the night. And she noticed how dark it was. Glancing up she saw how heavy gray clouds hovered above, and no sigh of the moon. Sighing and making her way back inside, she looked up again and a faint red glow caught her eye. She frowned at seeing the red familiar form in the sky. That's odd, Santana thought. It's not usual for it to appear at such a time of the year, and especially not in a stormy night such as this. She shrugged to herself and reentered the cabin.

She fixed the wood so it would keep the door tightly shut, and made her way to her sleep area, sitting down at her surprisingly comfortable makeshift bed. The sudden thundering she could hear outside made her think about the storm that had happened on the previous day. It was so sudden not even her was expecting it.

Dave had warned her, a storm might be coming he had said that morning looking grumpy as usual while eating his oatmeal beside her, "Are you sure, Dave?" she had asked remembering the sky looked pretty clear to her, and he only nodded, stuffing his mouth with more food. But when she had asked Sugar, the lookout, she had said there were no clouds on the horizon and no ships ahead, and Sugar even betted a few coins, saying there was no way a storm was coming in the next few days. And since Mer had supported the girl, Santana decided to push through with their navigation plans. The faster they got to their destination, the better chance they would have.

So that was absolutely the last time she gave the obnoxious youngling the benefit of the doubt. And Santana was definitely collecting her coins when she returned to her ship. Sugar still had a lot to learn about the weather and the sea, being the newest member of her crew. If it wasn't for her best friend, Santana would have kicked that girl out of her ship a long time ago.

And David was probably laughing at her right now; if he was here he would be saying "I told you so" repeatedly. But she also knew the big guy was probably worried about her too, and was probably getting a scolding from his father for not looking out for her.

She huffed out a laugh, imagining the scene in her head as she lied on her makeshift bed to the sound of loud thunder. If the storms continued around this area; it was very likely her crew would take some time to get there, as Mercy would never risk her ship and crew safety like that to come in the middle of such a strong storm, and also because she knew Santana could take care of herself.

Now she really regretted having so much to drink on the night before. No one but Mercy and David knew this but she hated storms, and it wouldn't be good for her moral if her crew was aware of that. So she always drank her heart's content whenever they faced large storms such as last night was, and let her first mate take care of the hard decisions.

Santana could hear the thundering and the heavy rain falling upon the cabin now and was thankful again that there wasn't any leak near her bed or the fire pit. But groaned as she remembered there wasn't any alcohol to appease her nerves caused by the storm. She eventually sighed, letting her exhausted body be taken over into restless sleep.

* * *

Hey, yess a new story. Though not really cause I've been thinking and writing for this story since about the same time as Cloud has, I'm just so much slower. Btw, if you haven't read Savage! by Swinging Cloud, you totally should.

I'll be posting a print of the structure of the ships in the story either on tumblr or on my profile, just so you guys have an idea what it looks like.

And if you want to know about my other stories, check my profile (that I just updated) to see the status and progress of my stories.

Hope you guys liked this chapter, for now it's just to set up the story but I'll be posting the next one in a few days just to get things going. Please let me know what you think :D

Oh, and this is unbeta'd so all mistakes are totally mine.

Ducks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: Warnings for possibly triggering material at the bottom.**

* * *

**October 23th, 1678**

Brittany woke up with a loud knocking on her cabin's door. She wasn't used to that, she usually was the first one up; just before the sun rise the blonde already needed to get countless things done. Actually she wasn't used to anyone knocking on her door at all. The woman looked around in the dark cabin with sleepy eyes scanning the still unfamiliar place; even if it's been a couple months now, Brittany still wasn't used to getting her own sleeping quarters on a ship.

The blonde woman got up and checked the tiny window in her room to see that indeed, there was no sign of the sun and frowned. Something must have happened for someone to come looking for her at such early hour.

"First Mate Pierce, Sir!" an unsure and familiar voice called out on the other side of the door.

Brittany took a deep breath and hurried herself to put proper clothing on. She only moved to the door when she had successfully wrapped her bindings over her chest underneath her undershirt, put her waistcoat on, tucked her braid under her blue bandana and hat and fixed her Cutless and pouch securely to her waist.

She opened the door to find an anxious greasy haired young man with thick eyebrows staring at her. The blonde lowered her voice as she addressed the shorter man "I told you to call me Brent, Blaine."

She still wasn't used to the title and no one treated her different than before her promotion except for Blaine, who insisted on calling her by her new title, or by some respectful manner. There was no need for such formalities in a pirate ship, plus Blaine must be almost the same age as her, so it would be even weirder.

The short man, Blaine blushed at his superior comment and nodded without meeting first mate Brent Pierce's eyes.

"So, what is the matter?" Brittany tried not to sound annoyed at the interruption of her sleep. But she knew the new comer Blaine Anderson was having a hard time adapting to the ship and most crew members picked on him on a daily basis, so she didn't want to make his life even harder.

Blaine averted his eyes and gulped very loudly. "Mr. Puck has sent me."

Brittany was surprised and her face showed. One reason was that Puck didn't come fetch her himself and two, Puck was awake this early in the morn.

"He said it was urgent, Mr.…I mean, Brent." the boy almost slipped again, but corrected the name right away embarrassedly looking down at the floor.

Brittany released an exasperated sigh and asked "Are you sure, he's not just drunk?"

"Yes, I'm certain." Blaine nodded but his voice faltered at the end. And Brittany was sure she heard him mumble something that sounded like 'not that drunk.'

"Alright, then." Brittany said closing her door behind her and locking it before Blaine had even a chance to peak inside. One of the first advices her captain gave her when he promoted her was, always lock your cabin.

"He is at the quarterdeck." Blaine informed his superior. The blonde gave him a curt nod before stepping into the main deck and heading up the stairs to the quarterdeck.

When Brittany got there, she saw the slump form of a man sitting on the ground and leaning against the mizzenmast. Approaching the man, she recognized her friend and noticed Puck looked somber and not his usual drunk self.

"Puck, is everything all right?" she asked with a frown on her face.

"Oh Brent! Finally!" he exclaimed pointing the bottle in his hand towards his friend.

"What are you doing here this early?" she questioned, observing her friend definitely looked like he had had too much to drink. Brittany wondered if Blaine was blind not to see that or his huge eyebrows just had clouded his vision.

"Did you even go to sleep?" Puck smirked at her question as he took another swing of his bottle.

Noah Puckerman, or The Puckster as he liked to be called, was the ship's Boatswain, he was in charge of the ship itself and keeping it in shape for travel and battle and always oversaw many activities on board. He was a relaxed guy and a known womanizer that was famous for throwing shore parties whenever he could. But he had been a Boatswain for many years and ultimately was a reliable and loyal guy that got the job done at the end of the day.

When Brittany had first joined the crew four years ago as Brent Pierce, the blonde was a bit intimidated by his reputation, but soon found out that Puck was one of the few decent guys aboard, and they became fast friends. Ever since Brent got promoted to first mate, Noah had been helping the blonde more than he usually did. Brittany made it clear both to him and the captain back then that Puck would make a much better first mate, but the man had refused saying it was too much responsibility and he already had enough as it was.

Brittany punched him in the arm to get his attention, hard but playfully as it was expected of Brent, earning a grunt from her drunken friend as he spilled some rum on his shirt. The blonde could smell how he reeked of rum, sweat and dirt. The man shrugged before rubbing at his sore arm. Puck looked up at his friend and handed the blonde his eyeglass.

Brittany stared between the object in her hand and Puck, leaning her head to the side in confusion and waiting for him to elaborate. After a moment he seemed to realize that and pointed east "There, use yer deadlights, matey."

The blonde shook her head at her friend's behavior laughing a little and wondering if he could even see pass his nose in his current state but indulged him anyway. Brittany brought the object to her eye, searching for what Puck was talking about.

"Do ye see that?" she could see in her peripheral vision, Puck pointing ahead and she followed it with the eyeglass.

"Aye." she mumbled in an almost whisper. The only thing she could see was heavy grey clouds at the horizon, it was still too dark to see anything else "It looks like a pretty heavy squall." she commented.

"Exactly!" he huffed as he passed his large palm over his poorly shaped Mohawk in concern. Brittany looked at him, waiting for him to continue, still not understanding what was troubling him.

"That bilge-sucking fool!" he shouted to the dense air, slightly startling Brittany with the outburst. Puck didn't take noticed as he took another large swing of his rum bottle and shook his head as he kept scoffing at nothing.

"Are you just going to curse the winds? Or are you tellin' me what the hell is going on?" the blonde inquired him in clear annoyance crossing her arms, already getting tired of his drunk vagueness.

"Schuester." he growled, pointing in the direction where Brittany knew the Captain's cabin was located "The man is a fool! I was jus' about to head for me quarters," Brent gave him a knowing look, Puck rolled his eyes and ignored his friend before continuing "When I noticed how fast we be goin'." the blonde nodded, acknowledging that she did noticed the ship was moving at high speed.

"That dog can't go that fast wit' a storm in the horizon!" the man said flailing his arms to make his point.

Brittany sighed, closing her eyes before she rested her hand on her friend shoulder "Noah, I think you've had too much to drink."

"No!" He protested shrugging his friend hand off his shoulder "By the hour he wakes, 'twill be too late." Puck continued, looking at blue eyes pleading for the blonde to listen.

"I'm aware of his orders" Brittany replied averting her eyes and looking down. Even if Noah was drunk, she knew he still was right about this matter.

"What?" Puck exclaimed perplexed by the statement and immediately stood up, still leaning on the mast for support as he waited for the blonde to elaborate.

"He wants to get there before any other ship." The first mate explained still looking at the ground, she didn't agree with Will all the time, but he was still the Captain and she still had to follow his orders at the end of the day.

"But 'tis too dangerous, to be off into such an ugly squall at this speed." Puck reasoned with his friend suddenly sounding much more sober.

Brittany nodded and released a deep breath "I can slow the ship down before it's time for the Captain to wake up." she suggested after a few minutes of silence.

Puck slowly nodded his head with glassy eyes before bringing the bottle to his lips for another gulp. But before the bottle could touch his lips, Brittany snatched the bottle away from his clumsy hands.

"Hey!" he protested, trying to get the bottle back from his friend.

"Come on, Puck. I think you've had enough." she said as the muscled man lunged for the bottle again and failed as he lost his footing for a second and almost fell to the ground.

"Let me help you to bed, Noah." Brittany smiled at her friend and used her best Brent gentle but firm voice as she offered Puck her arm. The man scoffed but complied, (it wasn't the first time this had happened after all), taking Brittany's arm and letting the blonde help him stand properly as he leaned his weight on a lean but strong shoulder for support.

She helped the heavy man down to the main deck and they proceed to stumble their way down the stairs passing through the gun deck and kept going down through the sailor's quarters. After a few missteps and curse words from Puck, they finally got down to the storage basement.

Brittany never understood why her friend chose to live down here. And he had been living in there since she had known him. He either spent his nights in the sailor's quarters with some of his friends or here in the basement along with their cargo and supplies, in a corner where he arranged a cot and a chest for his belongings.

Once Brittany tried asking him why he did that, he replied saying that there was where they kept all the alcohol and it gave him a lot more privacy whenever he brought a lady aboard. Still, it didn't make sense to the blonde, since if Puck really wanted to, he could easily get a higher rank on the ship and get his on cabin with all the privacy he wanted.

Puck definitely was an odd fellow, Brittany thought as she led the now half asleep man to his cot. But he was still one of her few friends, if not her only true friend aboard this ship. She often felt guilty for hiding her secret from Puck, but her safety depended on that secret, so the fewer people knew about it, the safer she would be.

The only other person, besides herself, that knew about her secret was the ship's medic Kurt Hummel. He had found out the truth about Brittany being a girl shortly after she joined the crew, when some crew members played a prank on her causing her to hurt her shoulder. When she was brought in, Kurt figured out right away that she was a woman, and for some reason decided to keep her secret and help her out, especially when she got any injuries or had any girl problems; which she was eternally grateful for.

They had become friends over the years, but definitely not as close as her and Puck. Kurt was also very odd in his ways; in a different way than Puck as the young man seemed to have an education of some sort and sometimes he could be a bit condescending towards the blonde and everyone else for that matter. Brittany usually just let it be, and preferred to keep it to herself the fact that until she was 15, she also had had an education and could read just fine contrary to an ordinary sailor.

The other crew members constantly called him Hummel, Baby Face, due to his delicate features and more effeminate behavior. If their captain hadn't laid down a law for everyone to back off of him, and hadn't given him his own officer's cabin, she was sure he would have a harder time on the ship. He once confided in Brittany saying she was his first friend, besides Will on the ship. And that made the blonde's day. She loved talking to people and she loved making new friends.

"There you go." the blonde almost grunted out as she laid Puck on the cot, grimacing at his half opened dirty shirt that showed an equally dirty looking chest, and she figured that's why he stank so bad, and she briefly wondered when was the last time he took a bath. The man just made a strange noise in response that Brittany interpreted as a "Thank you." before he completely blacked out on top of the cot.

Brittany relaxed her Brent posture and stretched her muscles from Puck's weight. She made her way back to the main deck still carrying Puck's bottle in her hands, hearing the loud snores coming from the sailor's quarters on her way there.

She took the stairs back to the quarterdeck and as soon as she got there, she made sure to empty the rest of the alcohol in the sea. Brittany had never liked alcohol very much. She wasn't fond of the taste or what it did to people when they drank.

She perched herself up on the railing to see if she could find someone that was still up at this hour. The blonde spotted a slumped form resting against the foremast, near the bow of the ship. As she got back to the main deck and walked towards the person, the blonde noticed it was Blaine and approached him.

"Night watch?" She asked startling the boy a bit, as he looked up at her. He slowly nodded at her question with his droopy eyes.

"Is there anyone else?" The blonde questioned looking around and squinting her eyes to see if she could find more people in the darkness.

"Aye, but most of them already went to sleep. But I think there's still some men drinking at the Galley" Blaine said as he got up still leaning on the foremast while rubbing the sleep out of his tired eyes.

Under the moonlight Brittany tried not to focus on how weird and larger than normal Blaine's eyebrow looked with the shades casted on it. It really looked like one large caterpillar chasing her even bigger sister.

Realizing she still hadn't replied and Blaine was expectantly looking at her, she stiffen her posture and assumed her first mate role as Brent and gave him a sympathetic nod before clearing her throat and assertively saying "All right, gather around at least 3 hands from the night watch." causing Blaine immediately straightened up at his superior command and give a firm nod in response.

Brittany continued explaining what their task was going to be in the same authoritative tone. "We need to reef the sails; it's too windy so we need to slow the ship down." She finished pointing towards the main mast.

"Aye aye, sir, I mean Brent" Blaine fumbled with his words again, inwardly scolding himself for his mix up as he felt heat creeping on his face and nodded again to his superior before turning around in the opposite direction.

Brittany smiled as the short man quickly walked away from her. She never understood why the young man was always so flushed around her. The blonde shrugged to herself as she leaned on the nearest mast and waited for the man to return.

Looking at the horizon, she could see that the storm already appeared to be nearer to their position, they definitely were moving too fast and the storm was coming. Fast and dangerous. She worriedly looked around, wanting Blaine to hurry up and get there faster.

She thought about her captain, and his seemly careless decision to sail at full speed in dangerous waters. William J. Schuester was a good captain; he respected his fellow crewmates for most of the time and had a fair knowledge of the seas. Being an ex-navy man, he was very strict with his rules and he could be ruthless and cruel during battles. Though he was too proud of his own double chin and could be very arrogant, and never admitted making mistakes. Brittany had come to know he was indeed a hard person to advise especially since he only seemed to like his own ideas. But for some strange reason he took a liking to Brent since the beginning.

Schuester could also be very naïve, trusting some of the boys on his crew too much too quickly. But if he realized one of them had crossed him, the man would make sure to punish them accordingly.

When Brittany first applied to be a part of The Wandering Hangman, she had heard the captain only employed able young men and it was one of her last choices since she had already been turned down by the last 2 ships, she had tried to join as Brent Pierce. She knew of the ship's fame, so she didn't have much hope so that's why she was so surprised when Will accepted Brent right away and how nice he seemed to be; even if he was a bit creepy, contrary to his reputation.

He took Brent under his wing and along with Puck taught the blonde a lot of things about sailing. And most recently trusted Brent to be the first mate of his beloved ship after the last one, Figgins, had been killed in their last raid. No one really liked Figgins, he was a man of few words and never really did anything, his hands were always tied according to him and most of the shipmates didn't mind that Brent had taken the job after what he did for the crew on that raid.

Brent had gained some popularity because of that raid. They were losing the battle when Will tried to raid a merchant ship that was unexpectedly guarded by a fleet of well-armed navy men. Brent's quick thinking and bravery managed to get them out of that situation with much less casualties than everyone thought possible. As Brent managed to single-handedly detach the two ships to allow their ship an escape and he let the crew take care of the navy men that still were aboard The Wandering Hangman.

To boost their moral, and keep the crew from mutinying him because of his poor leadership and failed attempted at looting another ship, the captain hanged all their prisoners as usual. An often display of cruelty that Brittany despised but could do nothing about.

She had winced when Shuester made her watch the execution that time and stand beside him while the men hanged. And her captain had chosen that particular moment to praise Brent efforts and promote him to first mate. The majority had agreed, but there was some who resented Brent for taking the job, and thought he didn't deserve it for being too young both of age and on the ship; the same people that mockingly called Brent 'Junior', amongst other way worse names. The rest was indifferent and just happy that they were alive and that Figgins wasn't the first mate anymore.

Despite that incident, Will was usually competent on raids and good at sacking small ports and ships but when the task required for him to outsmart his opponent or other pirates he wasn't as good, though he would never admit it.

When they went to certain quests to find treasures and similar things, they usually weren't that lucky. The crew wasn't aware that Will was not a good navigator, and often relied on Kurt's talent to do most of that job, that was why the young man was so valuable to their Captain.

The ship's strength was that they relied on brute force; they had great fighters aboard as the ship was populated by young males, and a skilled gunner like Coleman at their disposal. But that was also their weakness as long distance fights weren't their forte and smaller faster ships could beat them in upwind rather easily. A particular ship that did that more often than Will liked to admit was called La Canoras, currently the only ship run by a woman in the Caribbean. And that just pissed Shuester off even more; he told Brittany once that the woman was known for her snark and cruelty as well as for luring man to their deaths and that's why she was called Lopez, La Sirena Sangrienta.

The crack of thunder brought Brittany out of her memories, and she followed the noise definitely realizing that Puck was indeed right and the storm might come sooner rather than later.

She looked back at the aft where the wheel for controlling the rudder was placed, and bit her lip in thought. She could just change the ships course and try to avoid the storm all together, Brittany had a weird feeling about this particular storm, and she couldn't quite point out why. Plus Puck's warning even if he was drunk still worried her. But she couldn't change courses, Will was her captain, and the blonde had to follow his orders even if she didn't agree with them.

Brittany released a deep sigh and rubbed at her tired eyes when she heard a commotion and soon she saw the silhouettes of 5 men coming her way. She straightened her back, assuming her Brent posture again. When the men came to stand in front of her, she noticed at least 3 of them looked incredible intoxicated, and Blaine just looked really tired. But the blonde carried on and repeated the previous orders to the men; even if they all nodded along in acknowledgement she was only hoping they had actually listened and understood her.

When she finished giving her orders, they all scrammed away to do their jobs on their respective positions. The blonde had to admit that even if three of them seemed to stumble their way to the masts, they seemed to be doing their job pulling the right lines and cables and as the first mate, she was definitely impressed.

"I'll help you mates out." the blonde said as she walked to the foremast and got into position to pull a few lines to adjust the fore sail.

"Pierce, ye don' have to do that." the sailor closest to her at the foremast said as he pulled on a cable, his bright blue eyes weren't glassy like the other three men.

"It's no problem, Brody." she responded as she tightened her knot, giving a tight lipped grin to the muscular man. "We're all tired, and it will be faster this way." she said giving him a shrug.

Brody nodded in agreement and flashed Brent a thankful smile with his pearly white teeth. Brody Weston was a decent sailor and a talented carpenter that helped fix the ship when needed. Brittany really wondered how he managed to keep his teeth so white; most of the men on the ship didn't even wash theirs and let's just say dental hygiene wasn't a priority for a normal pirate. She averted her eyes from the staring both in the fear of possibly going blind and also before she blurted something inappropriate out to him, and just kept doing her work in silence.

When they finished tying the final knots and the sails were turned flat to the winds to avoid too much wind pressure on all that fabric from the strong winds. Brent addressed the sailors again before dismissing them "The men are to be awoken in a couple of hours. Shue's orders." They all nodded along in acknowledgement and the first mate dismissed the sailors who were grateful to returned to their sleeping quarters for some rest. Despite being tired, Blaine waved frenetically at the blonde, his greasy hair shining in the moonlight as he walked down the stairs to their quarters.

Brittany nodded to the young man but kept a straight face. Only when she was alone the blonde released a laugh at the man's behavior, Blaine sure was very strange, she chuckled to herself.

She walked up back to the quarterdeck and approached the wheel. The blonde sighed and picked up Puck's eyeglass from her pocket and once again looked towards the storm. Brittany noticed she barely even needed the eyeglass as the storm was now fast approaching and she could clearly see flashes in the clouds ahead and hear thunder just a few seconds later and a large dark cloud seemed to cover the moon, increasing the darkness around her. She softly touched the wheel, tempted to change the ship's course.

Brittany wondered if the weird feeling she was having was worth disobeying Will's orders, she nodded to herself after a few moments and made a decision right there.

There was a rule everyone on the ship was aware of, that Will was not to be disturbed once he entered his cabin. The crew had spread all kinds of elaborated rumors to explain that behavior. If Brittany thought the women at the market in her old town were gossipers, they sure had nothing on pirates. Brittany was about to disobey that particular order as she started making her way down to the Captain's cabin.

But the blonde didn't get very far because as soon as she set her foot back on the main deck a shadows obstructed her way. Brittany looked up and squinted her eyes trying to see who it was in the dark.

"Look wha' we got here!" the tall figured that was closer to her said with disdain clear in his voice.

"And we hear Greasy B yappin' about work at this hour." another shadow with broad shoulders spoke right beside the other man. She could smell the stench of cheap alcohol on them and took a couple steps back as the men kept approaching her.

"Aye, who be stupid enough to work at 'tis hour?" A lanky man at the first's one other side said with sarcasm and the other two laughed at his comment. Brittany winced at the man's words but made her best not to show it. Though it was still really dark with the clouds hiding the moon, Brittany could clearly see the flaming red hair atop the lanky man's head. Recognizing him as Rick 'the Stick' Nelson, one of the men that for some reason despised Brent.

When the men stopped laughing, Brittany could see their features better as the moonlight was slowing returning, and she realized the first man was no one other than Samson Evans also known as Sam, The Mouth. She didn't know the whole story but she guessed the blonde man got that name for his humongous mouth. He was one of the crew members that had a problem with Brent being the new first mate. Kurt had told her that Sam's constant need to be the center of attention was because he had wanted to be Captain Shue right hand since he first joined the crew and rumor had it that he hoped to one day take over after Shuester.

"Ye be one lousy first mate, Junior." the man with broad shoulder beside Evans sneered and as Brittany expected it was Joshua Coleman, an arrogant man that tried as best as he could to torment Kurt without Will noticing and he was friends with Evans and always seemed to follow him everywhere.

"I bet I would make a much better one!" Evans puffed his chest out with pride and a dreamy expression on his face.

Coleman punched the man's arm encouraging him while saying "Ye be damn right, Mouth!" while the Stick just nodded his head dumbly in agreement.

"We 'ave had it wit' ye, Pierce." the big lipped blonde scorned, taking another step towards Brent menacingly.

"And Bosun Puck ain't here to cover yer arse this time." the Stick continued, crossing his arms and looking around just to check if Puck was anywhere in sight.

Puck had always looked out for Brent; the blonde boy may be skilled with a sword or cutlass, but Brent lacked on physical strength compared to most pirates aboard, and his lean and lanky figure made some people tease or provoke him so to avoid people like Sam to become physically abusive, Puck always tried to stop that from happening. Since Puck had been on the ship for a long time, he was respected by the crew and his imposing figure usually got the goons to back off.

Brittany gulped as Coleman got even closer to her clenching his fists. In a fair fight, she might be able to take out one of them or even two, but three was too much, and it didn't look good for her. In the dark, what she didn't see was the fist coming her way from the right which knocked her straight to the floor.

"I 'ave always said this scurvy pansy was no pirate material." Rick mocked while the other men guffawed loudly.

"Bloody good one, Stick." Evans said as he noticed Brent was starting to get up and before he could, the man kicked him in the stomach sending the blonde to the floor again, gasping for air. "I dunno know what Shue sees in this cowardly swab." Evans sneered, spitting on the floor next to Brent's body.

Coleman put his hand on Evans's shoulder and said "Let's show this bilge rat, the pirate way to do things." As he kicked Brent again, aiming at his legs. Evans and Rick nodded before surrounding the young man on the floor.

Brittany tried to get up again, but only got another punch to her face, feeling the taste of warm blood running down her nose. She curled up on the floor to protect herself as best as she could as they continued to hit her.

Being a pirate for so long, she was used to injuries and fighting enemies, but she had never been attacked in such cowardly manner before.

Brittany's whole body was aching, her left arm and leg had taken the most hits and the pain was just excruciating, she really hoped they weren't broken. She could hear the men laughing above her and their mocking tone "'Tis really be the first mate?" Her eye was already swollen from the previous punch so she could barely see or distinguish who said it.

"I think that be enough, mate." Another voice said from above.

"No." The first one protested and she recognized the whiney tone as Evans.

"We can't kill him," the other voice said in a hushed whisper and made a pause before adding "…at least not here."

There was a long pause, where Brittany just remained motionless, her stomach twisting at the words she just heard, the girl just wished the pain would go away and hoped they would leave her alone.

"I have an idea" she heard Evans' voice after a while. And moments later she felt her body being lifted from the ground and felt pain shooting through her body as her limbs were stretched in an uncomfortable position. Brittany realized two of the men were carrying her body by her arms and legs. Not long after, she felt her body hit a hard wooden surface with a thud and she gasped loudly as air seemed to escape her lungs at her back hitting the wood. She was having trouble breathing and her body was aching even more after the impact.

"I dunno know, Mouth" she heard a hesitant voice coming from above.

"Don't worry, Shue will nah find out. He gunna just think Pierce left in the middle of the night or that he fell off the ship fer being the stupid swab he is." Evans replied and she heard a few mumbles that she couldn't distinguish in the state she was in.

"Just keep yer mouth shut!" she heard Evans hiss angrily before she felt her body slowing falling along with the wooden surface. Brittany realized she was being lowered to sea level on a dinghy. It didn't take long for her to feel the small boat hitting the troubled water.

She felt the sickening motion of the waves hitting the boat, harder and harder. Brittany opened one of her eyes and saw the ship getting farther away. The blonde immediately panicked, she tried lifting herself up but she didn't have enough strength left and she slumped back against the hard surface when pain shot through her arms at the effort. She tried calling for help but the strong waves had already carried her too far for her weakened voice to be heard. Brittany looked around and didn't see any pedals, she brought her hand to her forehead not knowing what to do; hissing at feeling the swelling on her face. She was in no condition of swimming back to the ship, as she felt herself slipping in and out of conscious from the pain every few seconds.

By the time Brittany was finally able to lift herself, albeit with great strain, the waves and the wind had only gotten stronger and the storm seemed to be in full swing around her. She used her remaining strength to use a nearby rope to tie herself to the boat and tried holding on to the boat for dear life as heavy rain fell on her head.

It felt like hours had passed, the night seemed darker and the rain was lighter now, almost gone. Though the water was as turbulent as before and the waves kept hitting the small boat with force, luckily without breaking it so far. Her tired and bruised body felt heavier by the second, her limbs were feeling numb. She gazed up at the skies, feeling her body give up into exhaustion, noticing a small red light above her where a few clouds seemed to have parted for some reason just before she felt herself slipping away into darkness.

* * *

Ahoy, me hearties!

It didn't take long this time, right? :)

So I hope you guys liked this chapter despite all the violence. It started off light and it took a turn for the worst at the end, but believe me, it was hella hard writing that scene even if it was necessary to the plot.

Here is a little something for you all. I hope all the ship's descriptions weren't confusing but if you want to check out the design of the main ships of this story here's a link just so you guys have an idea what's the layout. (without the spaces).

La Canoras (Santana's Ship): imagizer . imageshack . us/a/img9/6019/3ig0 . png

The Wandering Hangman (Will's Ship): imagizer . imageshack . us/a/img16/7053/18nc . png

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited this story. It means a lot getting that much feedback. Thank you, guys :D Please let me know what you thought of this one as well.

This is still unbeta'd so all mistakes are totally mine.

Ducks.

**Warnings: This chapter contains an amount of violence against women, if you are sensitive or would like more details, please contact me for more information.**


	3. Chapter 3

**October 23th, 1678**

Bored.

Santana was incredibly bored. It had been a weird couple of days. It rained for 2 nights since she got here, and yesterday the rain kept on for the whole day. Thank god, she had managed to gather more food on her second day and had saved some of it, but that didn't change the fact she was very, very bored the previous day and remained bored through this morning.

She gulfed down her breakfast, thinking she couldn't have been stranded on a more boring island. There was nothing to do during the day, specially being locked up in a small cabin; plus there was no secret stash of rum hidden anywhere or even a secret treasure buried, just the chest full of clothes as far as she could tell, so much for excitement.

There weren't even any local morons for her to pick on.

Santana sighed, finishing her meal in less time than she intended. Then she got up and gathered her stuff, picking up a piece of fabric in the floor and rolling her breaches up, deciding to have a look outside as the rain finally seemed to have stopped.

Santana stepped out of the cabin as she strapped her dagger to her waist, noticing there weren't even any clouds in the sky as if it hadn't been raining for more than a day.

_Damn strange weather_, she thought to herself.

Everything about this whole situation was odd, she observed remembering when she had gotten up in the middle of the previous night at some point when the rain had briefly stopped and noticed once again that the red dot had appeared in the sky. There it was again, mocking her. That red sign had always reminded her of her Papi, her family and she felt a pang at remembering the things she had already lost.

She shook her head as if trying to get rid of her depressive line of thought and started making her way towards the beach, trimming her usual path of wondering branches on her way there.

Santana breathed in the fresh salty air of the beach when she stepped into the sand, wriggling her bare fingers in it. She was so glad she didn't wake up with a headache today, the day was warm and pleasant and she hoped to catch some fish with the makeshift net she had made with some pieces of clothing on the previous day; at least she had made good use of her time locked in the cabin.

The brunette started walking down the beach, searching for a good place to test the new net she held in her hands when she noticed an odd but familiar form some hundred something meters away from her. Her hand automatically went to the dagger at her waist. Santana took a few more steps in the things direction and squinted her eyes trying to distinguish exactly what it was.

After she took several hesitant paces towards it, Santana realized it was a dinghy. This was even stranger, since it didn't seem to be any ships around; she double checked just to make sure. The woman carefully walked to the tree line and hid behind a tall tropical plant. From afar, it didn't look like there were people near it or aboard the dinghy, but Santana cautiously continued making her way towards it, hidden by the forest alongside the beach, just in case.

As she got just a few meters from the small boat, Santana finally came to the conclusion it was empty. The woman looked around searching for anyone in the premise or if something caught her eye, only moving from her hidden position once she was sure she was alone.

Santana approached the empty dinghy; located in a pool of water, protected from the powerful waves by large rocks. The brunette couldn't help getting a surge of excitement as she hoped this would be her way off of the island. She inspected the small boat closer and slumped in disappointment when she realized half of it was submerged in water due to severe cracks on its side, probably a product of hitting those big rocks.

"Damn!" She cursed, kicking the boat with her foot and wincing in pain. "Idiot!" Santana then grunted in frustration at herself, having completely forgotten she was bare footed.

Her hit caused the boat to move, floating a little away from her and Santana noticed the stretched rope tied to it. Forgetting her pain and spurred on by her curiosity, she inspected the rope for a brief moment and followed it to the other side of the dinghy. As Santana slowly walked around it, she noticed with a gasp that just a few paces from the small boat there was a body in the very shallow water.

She approached what appeared to be the body of a lean man carefully, and her gaze instantly fell on the Cutlass tightly strapped to the man's waist. Santana took her time analyzing the rest of his attire, realizing he was most definitely a pirate; the high boots with breaches darken by salt water held by a thick belt, the shirt that was clearly ripped in some places with hints of dried blood splashed on it, the worn open waistcoat also tainted by hints of blood and the blue bandana in his head holding some of the long blonde hair that lay disheveled across the man's face, hiding it from view.

By his attire, she could also know that he may have been not just an ordinary seaman.

Santana bowed her head in respect for the poor fool body of a pirate in front of her. If he was sent in a dinghy in the middle of such a storm, he was probably sent to die. _He almost made it_, she thought to herself with a shake of her head.

Getting closer to the unmoving man, Santana stopped abruptly to think; she was a pirate, so she might as well take advantage of this man's poor luck, and she was in need of a Cutlass after all, plus he may even have something interesting stored in one of his pockets.

She crouched down to his level, wetting her breaches in the process, and went for his belt to try and get the Cutlass free. But a sudden movement cause by the man stirring in his sleep startled Santana and she immediately brought her hand to her dagger but froze upon the sight in front of her.

The hair that was once covering the man's face had fallen and a delicate face was hidden beneath it, a clearly feminine delicate face, Santana discerned. Even if this person was wearing man's clothes, she was clearly a girl, and from the looks of it probably around Santana's age.

Santana also noticed how beautiful this woman was even if her face seemed to be heavily bruised. One of her eyes was swollen and had a dark circle around it and her thin dry lips were cut at each corner, but she still seemed beautiful with her defined cheekbones and straight long nose with a light layer of freckles on her sun kissed skin.

In a moment of though, Santana bit her lower lip. What should she do? She was about to rob a dead body and didn't feel guilty about it at all, and now for some reason, she was feeling bad for robbing a living woman? That didn't make sense to her.

She heard a pained grunt coming from the injured woman as she squirmed for a moment in pain. Santana imagined what this woman must have been through and how injured she must be and couldn't help but feel sympathy towards her.

Even though she knew she may regret this later, Santana had already made her decision the second she laid eyes on the blonde woman's face, she was going to help her.

To insure her own safety, Santana took the woman's Cutlass and strapped it to her own waist along with her dagger, and patted the blonde's pockets to make sure she wasn't carrying any other weapons.

With a lot of strain Santana picked the girl up from the shallow water, drenching the rest of her clothes before making her way back to the cabin. She hadn't realized before that this girl would be so heavy and she was too tall compared to Santana's smaller stature, so the brunette was having difficulty walking on the soft sand with the woman in her arms.

Santana released a sigh of relief when she finally got to the edge of the forest where the ground was more solid and easier to walk on, and adjusted the stranger in her arms for a better grip. But woman started squirming in her arms and fighting her hands, mumbling something the brunette couldn't understand.

She laid the wriggling girl on the ground before both of them could fall. Santana sat on the ground next to the blonde and waited for the girl to stop struggling. By instinct, she put a soothing hand on her pale sweaty forehead and caressed the skin with her thumb feeling small tingles at the tip of her hand where their skin touched. She tried to ignore the feeling and her curiosity but she found herself wondering what color this stranger's eyes might be.

After a few seconds, Santana noticed the blonde falling back into a more peaceful sleep; her face no longer looked pained and her squirming had subsided. So the tired brunette got back on her feet and stretched her back, getting ready to pick the tall girl up again and start their journey back to the cabin.

The sun seemed much hotter now, approaching its highest position in the sky. It took longer than Santana thought it would to reach the cabin and as she felt sweat dripping from her forehead and neck, mixing with the salt water on her body, she kicked the cabin's door open and carried the blonde inside, laying her down on the makeshift bed as smoothly as possible.

She noticed the woman seemed even limper now, and that she had completely stopped stirring. Worrying for the blonde, Santana moved her hand to the blonde's neck to feel for a pulse, and was instantly relieved when she found one; she couldn't help but notice how soft the woman's skin felt even under her current condition and also couldn't ignore the flip her stomach made when she felt that almost electric feeling at the tip of her fingers for the second time.

Retreating her hand, Santana stared at it for a moment in wonderment before she moved to light the fire. She wasn't a medic, but years living at sea and talking to her crew's medic Mike taught her a few things. For one, Santana knew cuts and bruises were always in need of a proper cleaning as quickly as possible. So when the fire was done, she went to get some water with an old bucket she had found the day before by the nearby river so she could heat it up.

When she got back to the cabin and put the water on the fire, Santana noticed the blonde seemed to have moved a bit in her restless sleep. Santana truly didn't want to disturb the stranger, but for her to see and treat this woman's injuries she would have to remove her clothes, and the brunette subconsciously gulped at that thought. She didn't even know why she felt the need to help this woman in the first place. But she just couldn't seem to really help wanting to.

Santana approached the blonde woman again, careful to not make any loud noises, and decided to start with the removal of the woman's boots. The high boots along with most of the blonde's clothes were heavy and wet, and Santana scoffed at herself as to why she didn't think to take those off on the beach so she wouldn't have to carry so much weight. She easily took both boots off, and the woman didn't even stir, as she seemed to be in deep sleep now, if the light snoring was anything to go by.

Santana quickly wiped away the small smile that she felt tugging at her lips at the endearing sound. She then moved to the blonde's breaches, also taking them off with a bit more difficulty due to the damp fabric sticking to the woman's skin. But Santana did notice with a frown that the blonde's underpants also had stains of blood on them.

She repositioned herself closer to the woman's torso, so she could lift it up and take the blonde's waistcoat and shirt off.

Once Santana managed to get both items off, after some stirring and unintelligible mumbles from the woman beneath her, the blonde was left in only her underpants and a tight binding wrapped around her chest; Santana guessed it served to hide its volume and scolded herself for the heating she felt creeping along her own face.

The brunette couldn't help but think one of the theories in her mind seemed to fit this blonde stranger. It wasn't unheard off, even if Santana had never witnessed firsthand, but she was aware some women posed as man to be able to go aboard ships; as most ships wouldn't allow a woman aboard due to it being a bad omen. The question that remained running through her mind was whether this woman was just posing as a male pirate to get somewhere or if she was actually a pirate who happened to hide her true gender. Santana was hoping for the former but a feeling in her gut told her otherwise.

Looking down at the woman, Santana swallowed dryly at the state the blonde's body was in. She was clearly fit, Santana couldn't deny, but her abdomen was covered in deep purple bruises and so were her lean arms, which also sported some small contusions. The brunette touched them gently one at a time to make sure there wasn't anything broken, even with the blonde's faint grunts of protests at each touch.

Santana lifted her gaze to look at the woman's face, wondering again what happened to her and felt a pang she couldn't explain at the thoughts running through her head. She shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind, she couldn't worry about that now; actually she shouldn't worry about this woman at all, she reminded herself futilely.

Absentmindedly touching the thin hairs at the blonde's neck, Santana stopped herself, and remembered that she hadn't checked the woman's head for injuries yet. So with the utmost care, she carefully and gently unwrapped the blue bandana. Relief washed over Santana upon seeing that the woman's head seemed to be intact; aside from her black and swollen eye and split lip.

After Santana took an overall look at the woman, grateful she didn't seem to have any major injuries or broken bones, she moved to get the warm water. Santana dampened a cloth and sat by the woman's side to start cleaning the cuts on her face. But, as soon as the warm cloth touched the bruised skin, the blonde jolted awake. Her unfocused light eyes opened and she seemed to panic, jumping from the bed in a hasty but precise movement, bumping into Santana on her way in a graceful flash of blonde, as she managed to steal her Cutlass back from the smaller girl's waist before Santana could even notice or understand what was happening.

As the blonde woman stood a few paces from Santana, pointing the Cutlass directly at the brunette's chest even if her eyes remained glassy and her legs visibly trembled. Santana's only thought in the moment was 'By god, this woman is good' as she stared mouth agape at the half naked woman.

She was cut off from her thought when the blonde took a step towards her. Santana lifted her hands in surrender, and tried reasoning with the girl as she said, "Wait, I'm not going to hurt you."

The confused blonde tried focusing her eyes on the stranger in front of her. Santana saw the woman's stance faltering as she started collapsing in slow motion. Quickly, Santana threw herself on the ground to catch the woman and was thankfully successful in softening her fall, at the cost of her own back hitting the hard floor with a loud thud.

For the second she laid on the ground with her back hurting from the fall and the woman's dead weight on top of her, Santana wondered what the hell was wrong with her. Not only had she thrown herself out there for a complete stranger, but the fact that her immediate reaction to a sword being pointed at her wasn't to reach for her own dagger and defend herself scared her the most because that had never happened before. And the worse was that all she could think about at this very moment was the warm touch of soft bare skin on top of her.

Santana realized right then that her previous words to the girl ran deeper than she had first thought. She had absolutely no intention of hurting the blonde, even if it conflicted with the way Santana had been raised to be; her survival should be the uttermost and most important thing to her, as her father had taught her many years ago.

She finally maneuvered herself from under the blonde and picked her up from the ground, slowly moving the girl back to the bed. Santana released a deep sigh as she picked up the piece of cloth she'd had before and dipped it into the bucket of still warm water. She took a moment to appease the woman's troubled expression while she slept, and started cleaning the cuts. The woman flinched at first but didn't wake again, much to Santana's relief, and instead after a while seemed to lean into Santana's touch.

Santana took her time, cleaning every cut and every bruise on the girl's body. She still wanted to keep the girl's modesty and felt herself flush at the thought of taking the girls underpants off; it's not like she never seen that before since she was a woman herself but even so. Instead Santana cut the dirt and blood stained parts of the woman's underpants to look for bruises and clean the ones she found there.

When she was done, Santana looked for her pouch and searched for Mike's cream. The substance had a horrible smell, but it was incredibly effective and she carefully applied it to the girl's injuries then cut into one of the many pieces of fabric she had laid out beforehand to wrap around each of the said injuries, to keep it from getting dirty. One of the many things Mike had told her was that they had to be kept clean in order to properly heal.

As Santana finished, she stood up and looked at her handy work with a sense of accomplishment. The blonde had each of her arms wrapped in a thin fabric as a bandage and the green smelly substance spread across the bruises on her abdomen; just looking at it, Santana remembered how she unintentionally flushed upon feeling the woman's well defined abdomen.

One of the blonde's legs was also tightly wrapped and Santana had carefully applied the sticky healing substance to the swell on the girl's eye so it would heal faster. Satisfied with her work, she decided to leave the girl to herself, and get on with the mind-numbing chores she still had left.

Santana was leaving the cabin when she smacked herself in the head for her own stupidity as she realized she had forgotten her makeshift fishing net at the beach. She really didn't want to leave the girl alone, but she didn't have much of a choice as her stomach growled and the brunette just couldn't continue eating only fruits for the rest of her stay here, however long that was going to be.

She made her way back to the beach, hoping her net would still be there when she arrived. Even though it shouldn't have taken as long, Santana was still tired from carrying the woman earlier so she made her way at a much slower pace.

Getting to the beach, the pirate went back to the place she had found the mysterious woman and thankfully her net was still lying near the beach, covered in sand. As Santana was already in the area, she decided to check the small boat again. She felt bad when she realized there was nothing around except the rope; not even paddles. Once again she wondered what had happened to the blonde.

Gathering the net in her hands and shivering as the cold water grazed her feet, Santana entered the ocean, searching for a good spot to catch some fish. Approaching a few rocks by the beach, she laid the net and prepared to catch some fish. Even as she concentrated on the task at hand, her mind couldn't help but ponder all the recent events; washing up on this island, finding shelter, the crazy weather, finding a stranded blonde stranger.

She scolded herself for thinking about the woman again. But it was inevitable; a hundred questions ran through her mind about the girl. What happened to her? Why was she dressed like that? Who did that to her? How did she survive the storm last night in the state she'd been in?

Santana didn't have an answer to any of those questions except one. After she thought about it, she did remember the woman had tied herself to the dinghy, and for some reason it only came to Santana now, she'd woken in the middle of the night and curiously the stormed seemed to have stopped.

She also remember looking into the skies late that night and finding that red glow shining down on her. That certainly had been strange and she couldn't help but remember her Papi and his words, immediately feeling a shiver run through her body. So Santana brushed that thought aside once again, she figured that was why the blonde had survived, because the stormed had ceased at some point last night. _That was very lucky for her_, she thought.

Her father came to her mind again, and she wondered if maybe it wasn't luck after all.

The sun was setting on the horizon and Santana figured she had enough fish for one day. It had taken her longer than she thought it would to catch these damn fish. It was like they had legs or something. When the last one had almost ripped her 'new' net she reckoned 5 fish were enough for a hard day's work on her first day of fishing; groaning loudly as she thought that she hadn't worked this hard in so long.

Santana started making her way to the cabin, and now felt bad for leaving the woman alone for so long. She briefly wondered if she would find the woman there at all, thinking she might have ran away and taken the brunette's possessions with her. Santana quickly discarded the thought when she remembered the state the woman was in, and how she had collapsed right after getting up. She frowned at that. For some reason, this woman being injured made a discomfort settle in Santana's stomach, and she felt an unexpected hint of growing rage at the thought of what might have caused the injuries.

Arriving at the cabin, Santana found the blonde in practically the same position she had been before and was thankful that almost none of the medicine had fallen from her body. She still blushed for some reason at seeing the blonde's barely covered body but quickly shrugged it off; she hadn't flushed this often probably in her entire life.

Before she could think on that, Santana began to prepare supper. She thought about frying the fish, which would be an easy choice, but upon further thought realized it would be hard for her new guest to eat that way. Santana kept mumbling to herself why she even cared but it didn't stop her from making a fish stew for supper.

She put the stew in a coconut shell when it was done and sat next to the unconscious girl, thinking about how the hell she was going to do this. She put the improvised bowl at her side to cool down and put her hand on the blonde's forehead, noticing the electric feeling again at the tip of her fingers but also noticing how warm the woman was, too warm. She stood up and grabbed a cloth and dipped it in some cold water she had in a corner.

She moved back to the blonde's side and put the cloth on her forehead, careful not to hit her swollen eye. After worrying her lip between her teeth for a few moments, Santana made a bold move and tried sitting the woman up slightly, hoping not to wake her as she put a folded dress under the woman's head to prop it up, and was relieved when she could still hear the woman's faint snoring.

Santana positioned her hand under the woman's neck to hold her still as she started to stir a little and brought the shell to the blonde's slightly parted lips and softly whispered near her face. "Drink"

The woman stirred a bit more but as the liquid touched her lips she accepted it and drank, still without opening her eyes in her half asleep state. The blonde drank the warm liquid so fast, Santana started to wonder how long the woman had been drifting at sea before she washed ashore. She hoped it had not been that long.

When the half asleep girl was finished, Santana wiped the woman's face with the back of her hand and covered the blonde's body with a thin blanket as she saw the woman shiver a bit.

Santana went back to the hearth to pour some stew into her shell. She sat by the fire to eat and stole a glance towards the woman, noting she was already fast asleep, if the light snoring was any indication.

If any of Santana's friends could see her now they wouldn't recognize her. Of course she would do the same for them if needed, but they knew she would never do the same thing for a complete stranger, and not only that but another pirate, from possibly a rival ship.

She scoffed at her own recent actions as she quickly gulfed down her food, she couldn't fathom why the hell she was doing this, but she just couldn't stop herself. There was just something about this girl that made her want to and she couldn't explain what that was.

She put things away and sat by the fire, realizing just now how sore her body was. She'd really done a lot of work today and carrying the stranger's limp body for such a distance hadn't helped. Santana looked around the cabin and fixed her gaze on the sleeping woman. _Shit_, she thought, "I gunna have to sleep on the floor." she mumbled under her breath, realizing the girl was occupying the only 'bed' available and the blonde was now splayed out on it taking up all the space.

Groaning in frustration, Santana stood up and went to the chest to pick up another blanket, suddenly very grateful for the amount of garments and blankets that she'd found in there. She took another glance at the blonde, just to be safe before she put her most precious belongings inside the chest, along with the stranger's Cutlass. She promptly locked the chest with her hairpin and hid it safely in her hair, along with her trusted small blade.

With her dagger safely resting on her waist, she draped the blanket on the ground near the fire, not too close, and lay down grunting as the hard ground came in contact with her sore muscles. She thought it would take longer for her to sleep in such conditions but soon her tired body gave out and Santana drifted into sleep.

* * *

Ahoy, mateys!

So the long awaited Brittana meeting! (Even if Britt was unconscious for most of the chapter lol) What did you guys think about it?

I was overwhelmed with the response I got from the last chapter and I just wanted to thank all of you for being so great :) Some of you had guessed where the dinghy would end up, so four for you, my dears.

This is was beta'd by a lovely friend of mine, so thank you m'lady ;)

Ducks


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